


You Have the Marriage For Yourselves

by Medie



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Background Character Death, Community: fandom_stocking, M/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-01-08
Packaged: 2018-01-07 23:27:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1125639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theirs will not be a marriage born in fear and desperation. The Romulans are taking more from them all with each passing day and Malcolm will be damned to every possible circle of every hell before he surrenders this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Have the Marriage For Yourselves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sfb (Nizah)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nizah/gifts).



> Draws historical information from Star Trek Federation: The First 150 Years (by David A Goodman) which is where all the details of battles and casualties come from.

Three days after the Romulans attack Starbase 1, destroying it, Columbia, and the Excalibur, Jeremiah asks Malcolm to marry him for the first time. It isn't the first time the subject has come up. With years of service in Starfleet and the MACOs behind them both, neither man has much patience for dancing around the important subject. Theirs are careers given to quick and unpredictable end and plans must be made for that eventuality. Marriage is as much a practical means to an end as it is a expression of their feelings and they both recognize the importance of that now more than ever.

Hoshi brings Malcolm the reports on a PADD, not trusting them even to intraship communications, and he takes them to his quarters. It's a small ship, everyone knows what the starbase's destruction means and he doesn't need dozens of eyes watching every twitch of his face, searching for a sign of the impending conflict. 

He makes himself a cup of coffee, but ends up reading the reports on his bed with Jeremiah behind him, reading over his shoulder. 

Together, they read the statement from Nathan Samuels and together, they sigh. 

"The Romulans aren't interested in negotiation," Jeremiah says, his voice a soft murmur in Malcolm's ear. "They're conquerers. They won't stop until we make them."

Malcolm nods and keeps reading. Jeremiah doesn't ask then, but the question has hovered between them since the news of the attack came in. Malcolm will never forget the grief that had settled into the captain's face with the report of Columbia's loss. It's the private nightmare of everyone with a loved one in Starfleet and the MACOS and it will be one he and Jeremiah will both share until this is over. 

When Jeremiah does ask, flat on his back and breathless from Malcolm's strike, it's with that nightmare banked in his eyes. "If something happens, I want to know--"

Malcolm cuts him off with a shake of his head. Flights of fancy are not things he has ever been given to, never even considered, so he's as surprised as Jeremiah by the way he steps back. "And when I marry you, I won't have it be for security's sake." 

Jeremiah doesn't patronize or insult him by arguing, but they both know the truth. Humanity is centuries beyond such thinking; neither the MACOS nor Starfleet would deny them any sort of benefits for the lack of a marriage certificate. It would not be as simple as if they were married, but Malcolm knows well the intimacies of the system and has assured they both have paperwork on file to cover any such eventualities. 

The emotional moment is utterly ruined when Malcolm's legs are swept out from beneath him and he falls to the mat with an utterly undignified yelp. Jeremiah is on him before he can complain and, very quickly thereafter, he doesn't want to.

*

They're six months into the war when the MACOS are officially absorbed into Starfleet and reorganized across the fleet. Admiral Douglas, the newly-minted Commander in Chief, makes the call in a bid to consolidate all possible resources. 

The initial change is a subtle one aboard Enterprise, though Malcolm imagines it's considerably less so elsewhere, but the new patches on Jeremiah's uniform are a sobering reality. With the advent of the war, Starfleet has been reluctant to change the crew. Back home, they're being held up as figureheads of human ingenuity. The bravery of the NX-01's crew a rallying point for the entire human race and no one wants to risk that. 

Still, theirs is the most experienced crew in the fleet and even Archer has admitted it's only a matter of time before necessity forces Earth to admit they've put their best and brightest eggs in a shiny big basket. 

Every time Malcolm looks at those patches, he's reminded of the clock ticking down. When Jeremiah catches him looking he sees the question once again rise in his eyes. 

It's nearly enough to make him cave, grab Jeremiah and make a run for the captain, but he holds fast. Theirs will not be a marriage born in fear and desperation. The Romulans are taking more from them all with each passing day and Malcolm will be damned to every possible circle of every hell before he surrenders this.

*

They suffer through the attack and occupation of Denobula, mourn with Phlox when news of the casualties come through, and they sit in quiet certainty that Earth will be next.

Two days from Earth, Denobula makes the perfect staging area and Malcolm can easily imagine the frantic preparations going on in the Sol system. 

The nights are quiet in their quarters, neither of them quite able to leave Lieutenant Commander Reed and Major Hayes behind when the door closes behind them, with too many nightmares of what might be. The Xindi assault is years behind them, but forgetting is impossible. 

News of the failed assault on Earth is the giddying, but doesn't last long. 

*

Neither of them know, precisely, what T'Pol tells the captain one morning, but things happen quickly after that. When Archer reveals they're meeting up with Atlantis and Defiant for an assault on Cheron, Malcolm can guess at what T'Pol's information might have been.

"The Vulcans have found Romulus," he says, in bed, Jeremiah's back against his chest, the two of them reading a PADD. "They must have. Starfleet would never commit us to an assault without a proper distraction to draw them away from Cheron. We wouldn't stand a chance against the Romulan fleet otherwise."

Jeremiah hums his agreement, walking his fingers back and forth over Malcolm's thigh. "We still might not," he says, quietly. "There's no guarantee, Malcolm. We don't know how many ships they're keeping in reserve."

"Not enough," Malcolm vows, kissing the back of his head. "I mean to have a wedding when all this is said and done, mister, and I've no intentions of allowing an alien race I've never even _seen_ stop that."

*

They lose the Defiant and Gardner to the fight, but it's worth the loss. Fighting on an even playing field cools the Romulan thirst for conquest and, shortly after that, the Romulan praetor Gileus surrenders. 

Malcolm pays little attention to the negotiations, sparing but a moment's glance at the newly-drawn borders of the Romulan Neutral Zone, having plans of his own to make.

He persuades Chef to make Jeremiah's favorite foods, gets it back to their quarters with the help of Travis and Trip, borrows candles from T'Pol, and even consults Hoshi on what he should say.

He needn't have worried. Jeremiah walks into their quarters an hour late for dinner, grimy from his mission, and promptly breaks into a broad smile at the terrified look on Malcolm's face.

"This, I take it," he says, taking Malcolm's face in his hands, "is yes?"

"No," Malcolm grins, "This is my counter offer. Is this _your_ yes?"

Jeremiah rolls his eyes. "Always the hard way with you."

"I surrender nothing," Malcolm agrees, forgetting about dinner, lighting candles, and all the fanciest words he could have invented. 

There'll be enough of that before long. The war is over, there's talk of a new charter for the Coalition, and he knows promotions for them both. He'll have his own ship and, he thinks, a perfect choice for executive officer. 

Assuming, of course, Jeremiah agrees. Malcolm is hardly the only stubborn one in this endeavor of theirs.

He pushes Jeremiah onto their bed and settles on his thighs. "Well?"

"You had my yes before this whole goddamn mess got started," Jeremiah all but growls, pulling Malcolm down on him. "The captain's expecting us in the morning."

Malcolm starts to complain, managing to say, "You cheeky bas--" before Jeremiah cuts him off with a kiss.

He lets him. 

A four year wait is long enough.


End file.
